


Where Words Fail, Music Speaks

by HanukoYoukai



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, but only a smidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai
Summary: "The next day, his twitter had blown up. Picture upon picture, tweet upon tweet, all showcasing the masked band during the last concert. During the ballad, Wade Wilson gestured emphatically towards Peter, who stood there and did nothing. Their fanbase was making him out to be some kind of a frigid asshole for ignoring Wade, only to be silenced by a tweet from their lead singer to“leave my boo alone.”What the actual f***?"ORWade can't seem to stop flirting with Peter onstage.
Relationships: Peter B. Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76
Collections: Marvel Undercover 2020





	Where Words Fail, Music Speaks

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Marvel Undercover 2020 AO3 Collection, and is a submission for this prompt:
> 
> S8: We play in the same rock band and you always look right at me when you sing that one love song on our set list but you never make a move off stage. It's giving me mixed messages all the time!
> 
> For: Kalika999. Hope you like it!
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful [KitKat992.](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/KitCat992/pseuds/KitCat992) Go check out her stuff!
> 
> Title is a quote from Hans Christian Andersen. 
> 
> Enjoy. :-)

The first time it happened, Peter didn’t even notice.

They played their set as usual, and in the blinding stage lights he focused on his bass and little else. He smiled as the energy in the room changed while Wade crooned their newest love ballad. A hush fell over the crowd, and Peter lost himself in the complexity of the music twining with the lyrics.

The next day, his twitter had blown up. Picture upon picture, tweet upon tweet, all showcasing the masked band during the last concert. During the ballad, Wade Wilson gestured emphatically towards Peter, who stood there and did nothing. Their fanbase was making him out to be some kind of a frigid asshole for ignoring Wade, only to be silenced by a tweet from their lead singer to _“leave my boo alone.”_

_What the actual fuck?_

And Peter meant to ask about it. He intended to during the next rehearsal. But then there were warmups and technical difficulties and new marks being laid down, and the next thing he knew, he was alone on the bus with a turkey sandwich and ice water, readying himself to go into hair and makeup before the next show. Eventually, with the stress of performing rearing its ugly head, Peter decided it wasn’t worth looking into. This was one of Wade’s weird, show-selling quirks, or something. It didn’t mean anything.

Wade couldn’t be doing this seriously. Peter wasn’t dating material. He learned that well enough by now. He already had too much baggage from his childhood. He was orphaned, then he lost the Uncle that raised him. The only one left was an aunt who was becoming frail as she aged. He was clingy, boring, and incredibly needy. Every relationship he had (if you could call them that) went up in smoke when things started getting serious, and Peter wanted serious. He was pretty sure based on everything that Wade had been through, he wanted serious, too, but there was no way he wanted serious with Peter. Peter wasn’t enough for someone like Wade, who was so much larger than life. He knew it, so he pushed his feelings down and away, to be dealt with on a rainy day with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s _Stark Raving Hazelnuts._

It kept happening. Sure, it was easy enough to deal with on stage. Peter was a performer. He knew how to play along. He tilted his head coyly at Wade each time he would start to serenade Peter. When Wade turned his body to Peter and made big, dramatic hand gestures, Peter swayed to the music in a sultry way. When Wade danced around Logan (much to the guitarist’s displeasure) to start gyrating next to Peter, the bassist would grind back and laugh. It was like a game they played on stage, each performance becoming bolder than the last. Their drummer, Kitty, would roll her eyes in the dressing room after each concert, asking them if they could just get a room already.

It made the crush he had on Wade even worse. Peter knew Wade had issues. He was constantly worried about his skin—scarred and mottled from years of abuse and a terrible condition that caused the marks to never properly heal—and he hated being seen unless he was covered from head to toe. Peter was one of the few people Wade unmasked around, and he was touched that Wade considered him that trustworthy. So many people in Wade’s life made him feel small. Like he was lesser, and it made Peter angry.

They were scars. Skin was skin, and yes, Wade looked fucking terrifying at first glance, but underneath all that was a hyperactive guy with an insane sense of intelligence and love of Star Wars that Peter couldn’t get enough of. It didn’t hurt that Wade gave cuddles away like candy, and he was warm and smelled nice and _Jesus fuck_ he was so huge he made Peter’s knees knock together and guts twist up in the best way. Peter wasn’t that much shorter than him, but where he was lean, Wade was _built_ , and Peter drooled over how much strength those muscles held. Peter had to shake himself when he started thinking about Wade sometimes. He didn’t want to force his feelings on the guy. Peter started hoping that maybe Wade was interested and would say something.

Peter didn’t expect him to say something in the form of a wide-eyed mask in his face cooing lyrics, but he would have been overjoyed at the new attention if it weren’t for the fact that Wade only did this flirty thing during concerts. Peter wanted to address it. He _tried_ to, but lately when Peter tried to get Wade alone, there was always something that would get in the way. They were trapped on the tour bus and had no privacy. Logan and Kitty wanted to play video games with them. Wade got distracted by a puppy.

Their performances on stage stayed PG, but it was getting more and more distracting whenever they would sing that stupid song. Peter started flubbing the basslines in the songs leading up to it because of how sidetracked he got. So far, there were small mistakes. No one in the audience knew what was going on. The band did, though, and so did their manager, who was _not_ happy.

“Parker!” Peter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing away from the audio mixer. Logan stopped playing at the interruption, looking through the glass with a perplexed expression. Wade turned to Peter after he pulled his hood up, obvious concern all over his scarred face. J. Jonah Jameson stomped toward the studio, ripping open the door.

“What’s going on?” Wade asked.

“Don’t know,” Peter shrugged, lying through his teeth. Of course he knew. He was frustrated that Wade _didn’t_ know. Hadn’t he noticed how much Peter was screwing up lately? Peter was lucky they hadn’t fired him yet. One of the downsides of being masked during performances meant that everyone but Wade was easily replaceable.

Jameson halted in front of them, hands folded over his chest and his cigar clutched in his teeth. He pulled the cigar away, blowing out a plume of smoke. “My office, now!”

Peter sighed. “Yes, sir,” he said, standing up. Wade moved to follow him, but Peter waved him off. “It’s fine, Wade. I’ll be back.”

Wade hesitated, then shrugged and sat back down. Peter followed Jameson out of the recording studio down the hall to his office. He pulled the door closed behind him, but it never latched properly in all the time they worked here. The door creaked open, but when Peter moved to pull it shut again, Jameson told him to leave it and sit down.

Peter did as he was told and watched as Jameson moved around to the other side of the desk. The manager stayed standing, dropping his cigar in the ashtray and looming over Peter, his hands braced on the desk in front of him. Peter kept his hands folded in his lap and tried not to break eye contact.

“What the hell is your problem?” Jameson snarled.

“Sir?” Peter asked as innocently as he could.

“You’re fucking up, Parker! You’re fucking up left and right, and I can’t keep justifying what the hell people are paying you for!”

“What—”

“The fans are noticing,” Jameson said bluntly, sitting down heavily. “The last reviews that came in mentioned. It’s on fucking twitter, and it’s _trending._ ”

“I—” Peter swallowed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jameson. There’s been some stuff going on, and I’ve been a little distracted—”

“Distracted? I don’t care if your dog just got run over by a semi-truck, Parker! You can’t keep screwing up like this! It’s bad for business! The only reason I’m not firing you is this new gimmick you and Wilson have on stage has been raking in the publicity. But that won’t save you if you can’t play your fucking parts!”

“Sorry, sir,” Peter said, quietly.

“You’re on thin ice, Parker,” Jameson said menacingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Yes sir,” Peter said.

“Get out of my office,” Jameson growled. Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He shot out of the chair and all but ran out the door. As soon as he was in the hallway he was face to face with Wade. The man stared at him with wide blue eyes, his mouth gaping at him slightly.

Peter was ready for the floor to swallow him whole. He offered Wade a small smile and walked down the hallway, shoving his hands in his pockets. Wade followed him.

“So,” Wade said, cautiously, “that was intense.” Peter snorted but didn’t reply. “What—um. What did he mean by you screwing up?”

Peter halted and turned to him, eyes narrowed. Wade looked genuinely confused. “You haven’t… you haven’t noticed how I’ve been playing, lately?”

Wade shrugged and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Not really.” Peter stared at him in disbelief. Wade’s smile slipped off his face. “Okay, well, I know the last couple of concerts you’ve kind of been off, but it’s hardly noticeable.”

“I’ve been distracted,” Peter said slowly. “And it’s definitely noticeable, considering Jameson just ripped me a new one a minute ago.” Peter scuffed the toe of his worn-out sneaker against the linoleum floor. “Wade, what’s the deal with you and that song?”

Wade’s eyes widened. “Um. Which song?”

“You know which one,” Peter said bluntly.

Wade chuckled and rubbed the back of his head a little nervously. “Yeah, you caught me.”

“Why do you keep, you know, flirting with me?” Peter asked, shuffling a little.

“I can stop,” Wade said immediately.

“That’s not an answer,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “Why do you do it?”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know. Seemed like a good idea.” Peter stared at him and Wade huffed. “It’s good for business, right? You’ve seen how it’s been trending. A lot of our fans were already shipping us. I just played it up, you know?”

Peter swallowed, fighting the sudden urge to cry. Wade had no fucking clue what he was doing to him. Not only that, but he didn’t even _like_ Peter. Not like that. He did it for fucking sales. He did it to give people a show. Peter couldn’t even blame him. It’s not like Wade knew about his massive, horribly misplaced crush. It’s not like Peter came clean and told him that it gave him mixed signals. He just went along, hoping for the best, just like he did with MJ and Harry and fucking Felicia.

“Oh,” he said, nodding a little. “Yeah. Of course.” He kept his eyes on the floor as he turned to walk back to the studio. God, he was so fucking stupid. Of course Wade didn’t see him that way. No one saw him that way. He was just some nerdy kid from Queens, good as a friend, good for a fuck, and not good for much else. He felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest and tried to will it to loosen.

“Peter?” Wade had gently grabbed his forearm to stop him and Peter did, because he was half in love with the guy, and he was an idiot. He kept his eyes on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

Peter shrugged. “Nothing,” he replied, voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat. “I—I just kind of thought maybe you liked me, is all. Stupid of me.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Wade breathed. Peter couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t bear to look up and see pity in those pretty blue eyes.

“I’ll get over it,” Peter replied. Wade still had his hand on his arm.

“Look at me?” Wade asked. Peter didn’t lift his head until he felt Wade’s gentle fingertips pressing against his jaw, tilting his head back a little. Peter raised his eyes and was surprised to find Wade’s were somewhat awed, like he hadn’t ever seen him before.

“What?” Peter asked.

“God, I’m so—I didn’t—you like me?” Wade asked, grinning. Peter blinked and shrugged again.

“Well, yeah. You’re kind of awesome,” Peter replied.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Wade demanded, but his tone was full of humor. “Oh my God, Peter, I’ve liked you for forever!”

Peter forgot how to breathe for a second. “What?”

“You’re sexy as fuck! Your hair is so soft and messy I just want to bury my fingers in it,” Wade said, moving right into Peter’s space, backing him into the wall behind him. His stomach twisted and his heartbeat sped up. “And your eyes, God, Peter those brown eyes kill me every time.” One of Wade’s hands moved up to rub a thumb over Peter’s cheek, making Peter flush. “And your smart and hilarious and can quote every Star Wars movie except the prequels because—”

“Because they’re an abomination,” Peter finished for him, hoping he didn’t sound breathy. It felt like he got the wind knocked out of him.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Wade growled.

“But, you just said—”

“I was lying, come on!” Wade said, rolling his eyes. “You think my ugly ass thinks I have a chance with someone like you?”

“I don’t like it when you say things like that about yourself,” Peter countered.

“See? Fucking perfect,” Wade growled. “Pete, I—I’m sorry. I sing that song at you and flirt with you on stage because I like you, alright? I like you so fucking much. I want to date the shit out of you. With flowers and plushies and pancakes in bed. Can I?”

“You want to go out with me?” Peter asked, feeling himself grinning like an idiot.

“Yes, so much,” Wade said, coming close enough to breathe the same air.

“I would really, really like that, Wade,” Peter said softly, bringing his hands to Wade’s hips and pulling him closer. “And I really want to kiss you right now.”

“I really want to kiss you too, baby boy,” Wade replied as he licked his lips, tilting Peter’s head up a little further and pressing his mouth to his.

Peter’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Wade’s soft mouth against his. He brushed his tongue against Wade’s lips, asking for permission. Wade parted his mouth slightly, inviting Peter in. His fingers tightened on Wade’s hips, dragging them flush against his, and Wade responded by pressing him tighter against the wall. It was _so good_. His felt his blood rushing through his body, pulsing in nearly every limb as Wade’s soft fingers trailed down from his face to his chest and then—

“Well, this is something.” Wade pulled away and Peter blinked, startled. They both turned back toward the recording studio to see Logan staring at them, shaking his head. “Looks like I owe Kitty fifty bucks.”

“You bet on this?” Wade asked, affronted. “And you bet against us getting together? I thought we were friends!”

“No, I bet Kitty we’d catch you going at it in the bathroom. She figured you wouldn’t make it that far,” Logan replied, gruffly. “Come on. Fuck later. We have to finish up.” Peter felt his face heat up and knew he had to be bright red. Logan smirked and turned away, walking back to the studio. Wade and Peter followed quietly behind.

“So,” Peter said, catching Wade’s attention again. “You said something about pancakes?”

Wade smirked, and Peter felt heat shoot down to his groin at the look in his eyes. “I did, baby boy. You want to take me up on it?”

Peter grinned and laced his fingers with Wade's as they walked. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's it! That's the fic! Did you like it?
> 
> Please leave a comment to let me know what you think, and leave a kudos if you were entertained!
> 
> Thanks for reading. :-)


End file.
